A. Zavarelli - Stutter (Bleeding Hearts Book 2)

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A. Zavarelli - Stutter (Bleeding Hearts Book 2) Page 11

by Unknown


  He stared down at the package in my hands with an odd expression before lifting his gaze to mine.

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s a very belated birthday gift.” I smiled.

  He reached towards it tentatively, but there was a hint of impatience on his face. My stomach fluttered as I handed it off to him, and now I had no idea if he was going to like it.

  “It’s nothing big,” I said. “So don’t get too excited… I just…”

  He reached down and kissed me hard and quick to shut me up. “Shh… don’t do that thing.”

  “What thing?” I asked.

  “That thing where you try to make it seem like it’s nothing.”

  I pouted, and he ripped off the paper, flipping open the book. When he saw the first page and my inscription, the smile slipped from his face and turned to something else. I couldn’t quite make it out, but I knew it wasn’t disappointment.

  He was quiet for a long time as he flipped through each page meticulously, taking it all in while I held my breath. When he finally got to the last page and shut the book, I was already about to do the thing again.

  “Brighton…” his voice was rough as he stared at me with cloudy eyes. “Nobody has ever done anything like this for me.”

  My chest swelled with pride and relief as I ran my fingers through his hair, my eyes roaming over his face for what must have been the millionth time since I’d met him. He only became more handsome with each passing day. The blue of his irises were tinted with small fractals of shattered crystal. How easily they could change, and yet even at their darkest, they were a terrifyingly beautiful sight. Long black lashes fluttered closed as I traced the lines of his perfect jaw and nose with my fingertips.

  How could someone so striking ever want to be with me? I still didn’t know. He was the embodiment of refinement, intelligence… he exuded confidence in spades. His body was a work of art in the nude or in his favored Brioni suits. Sometimes when I looked at him, I couldn’t comprehend that his beauty was real. That by his own admission, he existed solely for me and no one else.

  A small part of me still feared that he would outgrow this attachment. That at some point, he would realize the girl sitting in front of him was less than he deserved. He’d done awful things, it was true. But it didn’t place us on an even playing field. I wasn’t and never would be in a league with him. The intensity of my fears and insecurities threatened to snuff out everything good between us as I reached up and gripped his collar.

  “Don’t ever leave me,” I implored. “Don’t ever grow tired of me, Ryland. I won’t be able to handle it.”

  “Fuck me,” he muttered as he gripped my face painfully. “That is never going to happen, baby girl. Never.”

  He reached down and ripped my blouse at the seams, sending buttons scattering everywhere. Solid, warm fingers slipped over my lace clad breasts, making my head fall back as I gripped his biceps. I was so sensitive there that the slightest touch had me drunk with lust.

  His head dipped and burrowed between them for a moment before he slipped my bra straps off my shoulders and down. His hot, wet mouth latched onto me, and a feral groan escaped my chest as I cradled his head against me.

  He sucked me long and hard, flicking my nipple with his tongue while he murmured reverent words into my skin. He repeated the same process on my other breast, and I thought I might explode from this act alone. It was so intimate the way he sucked on them now, like he couldn’t get enough of them. Like he’d love to stay there for days on end.

  I would gladly let him.

  I massaged his neck and shoulders and watched with hooded eyes as he took long deep pulls with his mouth. Finally, he released me with a pop and brought his hungry mouth to mine.

  My lips parted for him and he swept his tongue inside, drinking me in like he couldn’t get enough. At some point during the ravenous kiss, he lifted me up and bent me over the sofa.

  My skirt came down and pooled around my ankles before his hands slipped inside of my panties and fondled my ass. And then he kneeled behind me, quickly dispensing with the panties altogether. His lips trailed over me, kissing every inch of my bottom while he squeezed the flesh with his palms.

  His gentleness was replaced with the scrape of his teeth, and my breath began to quicken as I gripped the sofa with white knuckles. This was what I loved. What I needed from him.

  His possession. His obsession. His need to claim me. I hoped he would never stop claiming me.

  I moaned when he sank his teeth into the fleshy part of my ass and then soothed it with his tongue and a tender kiss. Gentle and rough at the same time. That was my lover in a nutshell.

  He stood up and spanked my ass right over the bite mark, shocking me. And then his cock was rubbing against me, soaking wet with my arousal.

  “You like that, baby girl?” he asked gruffly.

  “Yes,” I panted.

  “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

  “Fuck me,” I begged.

  He laughed and ground his hardness against my ass. “Such a filthy mouth. I should punish you for that.”

  A whimper escaped me as his hands gripped my hips, pulling me back against the engorged head of his cock. He slid partially inside without any resistance from my body and then held impossibly still. Pure torture. Hot fingers grazed the length of my spine, stroking all the places he’d marked me with his initials. I wondered if he was thinking of them now.

  “Do you miss your trophies?” I asked.

  His hand trailed up the curve of my back and over my neck. A tug on my hair and my gaze met his.

  “You’re my trophy,” he declared as he thrust deep inside of me.

  I whimpered and his fingers clamped down on my shoulders, an unconscious and unnecessary reminder that he was in absolute control of me. I loved that. I never wanted him to stop.

  He pressed his body against me, the warmth of his chest radiating into my back. Somewhere along the way, he’d managed to discard his shirt without me even realizing it. This was how I preferred him. Skin on skin. Nothing between us. I knew he loved it too.

  His fingers brushed over the pulse in my throat, letting me know he was there without any pressure. It excited me nonetheless.

  “Tell me I’m the only one who will ever have you,” he whispered in my ear.

  “You’re the only one,” I mewled. “You’ve been the only one. You always will.”

  “You look so fucking hot like this,” he declared. “Bent over and stuffed full of my cock. Swollen with my baby. Christ, Brighton, it does me in just looking at you.”

  His hips smacked against my ass and my moans vibrated all the way down my spine. I was so close, and his words were forcing me over the edge. His fingers reached around and played with my clit roughly while his other clamped over my mouth. I nearly buckled from the pressure building inside me and Ryland had to hold me up as I finally exploded around him.

  My orgasms had been insanely intense the farther along I got, and this one was no exception. I was hanging like a limp noodle in his arms while he kissed the back of my neck and murmured sweet words. His hips continued to roll in and out in a steady, even pattern. His breath was ragged as groans ripped from his chest. He was getting close, and his hands tightened their grip on me as a telltale sign.

  “Say the words,” he clipped out. “Say what I want to hear.”

  I knew what he wanted. But this time I wasn’t going to give it to him. I was going to tell him what I wanted to say instead. I reached back and wrapped my arm around his neck, bringing his gaze to mine as he drove into me from behind.

  “You’re mine,” I declared. “Only mine.”

  Ryland cursed and jerked inside of me, his eyes falling shut as he released an almighty roar of sweet agony.

  The minute it was over, we collapsed onto the sofa, a panting sticky mess. My head ended up in his lap somehow, his fingers stroking through my hair as he stared down at me with nothing but tenderness. This was quickly b
ecoming my favorite part. The way he took care of me afterwards. Always.

  “Happy, baby?” he asked.

  “Yes.” I smiled against him.

  “I’m going to make you happy for the rest of your life,” he whispered. “I’m never letting you go, Brighton.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Brighton

  Nicole picked me up at noon and drove me to Alex Burton’s office in the sky.

  While The Bennett Corporation was housed in the historical district of San Francisco, Burton Corp was modern all the way. The building itself was nothing more than a heap of sharp asymmetrical lines that rose towards the clouds like a beacon of superiority. I didn’t like it at all.

  Perhaps it was my guilt talking. I hadn’t told Ryland I was coming here because I had a feeling he wasn’t going to be pleased with this development.

  We signed in at the front desk and rode the elevator all the way to the top floor. The interior was filled with squeaky clean glass and chrome at every turn, and I was afraid to touch anything for fear of leaving a fingerprint. I remembered thinking how Ryland’s building was fancy inside, but it wasn’t nearly as pretentious as this.

  Three immaculately groomed receptionists greeted us as we stepped off the elevator and offered us a drink. I accepted a bottle of water graciously as my lips started to stick together.

  My foot bobbed up and down while we took a seat and waited. It had been a while since I’d worn heels and it felt a little strange. I was also wearing one of Ryland’s favorite dresses. White with a flared waist. It was the only stylish dress I had that fit my growing belly. Since I’d been pregnant, I’d been shopping for comfort, not style.

  Nicole was wearing a Valentino business dress, looking cool as a cucumber. I didn’t know how she managed to stay so calm when my palms were sticking together.

  “Quit fidgeting,” she whispered. “It’s going to be fine.”

  “I just keep thinking maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” I said. “Don’t you think it’s weird that Ryland’s competitor has taken a sudden interest in our foundation?”

  “He’s a philanthropist.” She shrugged. “Who cares what his reasons are as long as he donates to the foundation and spreads the word.”

  I didn’t share the same confidence. But I didn’t have any more time to think it over because one of the receptionists appeared in front of us with a smile.

  “Mr. Burton is ready for you now.”

  She ushered us down the hallway and into his office. It was huge and completely ostentatious. The walls were a deep mahogany color, and they were filled with awards and photographs of Mr. Burton and some very notable faces.

  When I swung my gaze to the real life version, I was surprised to find he didn’t really look at all like I’d imagined him. He was tall and lean and had dark appraising eyes and jet black hair. He oozed charm and sophistication, and his features were carefully schooled to reflect that, even as his eyes trailed over my body.

  I suddenly felt very much on display.

  “Please.” He gestured to the chairs opposite his desk. “Have a seat, ladies.”

  Nicole and I both sat, and I wrung my hands together in my lap as he continued to watch me. It might have been paranoia, but I swore he hadn’t he even glanced at Nicole yet.

  “Miss Valentine.” He smiled. “It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you. I’ve heard great things about you.”

  “You have?” I blinked.

  “Of course.” He tilted his head back in laughter. “San Francisco is really just like a small town when you take into account this industry. I would have poached you myself if I wasn’t certain that Ryland had no intention of letting you slip away.”

  I shifted in my seat and gave him a weak smile. His words were friendly, charismatic even, but I wasn’t comfortable with him talking about Ryland. And I wasn’t dumb enough to believe that my credentials were in high demand. Nicole must have felt the same tension because she brought the subject around immediately.

  “Thank you so much for meeting with us to discuss our foundation, Mr. Burton. We are so very pleased that you’ve taken time out of your busy schedule for this.”

  “Yes, well…” He tapped a pen against his oak desk and leaned back in his chair. “We’ll get to all of that. First, I want to know something.”

  He was looking at me. I swallowed and glanced at Nicole. She gave me an encouraging smile like all of this was normal.

  “What would you like to know, Mr. Burton?” I asked.

  “What I’d like to know is…” He leaned forward with a charming grin. “If you’d share one dance with me at the charity gala next week?”

  My cheeks flushed and I couldn’t hide it. Was he flirting with me? Surely he could see I was pregnant. It was blatantly obvious.

  He held up his hands in a placating gesture as if sensing my discomfort. “Just a harmless dance,” he assured me. “I’ll be honest in saying that while I do appreciate a good charitable function now and again, they need to be beneficial for me as well in some way. And me being connected to your charity is good publicity.”

  I didn’t see how those dots connected in his mind, but I didn’t really understand these things. Ryland was also forced to attend some events he’d much rather not because he said it was good for business. So I didn’t see harm in having one dance at a public event with this man, even though Ryland was going to hate it.

  “Okay,” I relented. “I guess that could be arranged.”

  “Perfect.” He grinned. “Once that’s accomplished, I’ll be more than happy to make a rather sizable donation to your cause.”

  “Thank you so much Mr. Burton.” Nicole bobbed her head in excitement. “We really appreciate this opportunity to have you attend one of our events.”

  He looked at me again and winked. “Believe me. The pleasure is all mine.”

  ***

  Three days had passed since my meeting with Alex, and I still hadn’t told Ryland about it. I hated hiding things from him, but everything was going so well I didn’t want to ruin it.

  The charity gala was on Saturday, and Nicole and I were out shopping for dresses. There wasn’t a large selection of maternity wear that I liked, and everything seemed to cling to my body too tightly. I grumbled in frustration as I shoved another silky gown back onto the rack.

  “What about this one?” Nicole held up an emerald green dress.

  I wrinkled my nose in response. Everyone always told me I should wear green because of my red hair, but it was so not my color.

  “Well, I’m afraid that’s the last suggestion I have,” she said. “Should we try another store?”

  I nodded, and we walked back out onto the street. There was a man leaning against the brick building across the way reading a newspaper. Normally, I wouldn’t have even noticed, but I’d seen him earlier while Nicole and I were having lunch too. That was all the way over by our apartment.

  “Didn’t we see him earlier?” Nicole whispered.

  “Yes,” I grumbled.

  “This has Ryland written all over it.” She shook her head. “He’s so paranoid something’s going to happen to you.”

  While my first inclination was to agree with her, there was something different about this guy. Mick often wore suits, but they were department store fit. This one looked like it had been seamlessly tailored to this man’s body, and I knew his shoes were real Italian leather because Ryland had the same pair. There was something suspicious about it because he didn’t look like a bodyguard. I mentally catalogued it as something else I’d have to bring up with Ryland later as we continued onto the next store.

  By the time we finally got back to the apartment, I was exhausted. Shopping with Nicole should have been considered an Olympic sport. I set down my bags and kicked off my shoes before I went in search of Ryland. I found him on his weight bench, pressing out reps like nobody’s business.

  Good Lord he was sexy like that.

  He had the music up, so he didn’t hea
r me come in. For a moment, I just stood in the doorway and watched his biceps flex as he lifted the bar above his head. His entire chest stretched and pulled rippling down his abs from the effort. They were glistening with sweat, and I had the strangest urge to rub all over him. Chalk it up to the hormones.

  With any other man, it wouldn’t have been sexy. But Ryland in this state had my panties clinging to me already. My eyes roamed over the trail of hair that disappeared into his black fleece track pants. I could see the bulge of his cock from where I stood, even though he wasn’t hard. I was having a hard time tearing my eyes away from it when he looked up and caught me ogling him. I grinned and shrugged in embarrassment as he hit pause on the stereo remote.

  He sat up and leaned forward on his elbows, rubbing a towel over his face before he smirked.

  “What’s up, baby girl?”

  I walked towards him and slid onto the weight bench in front of him, wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling his face to mine.

  “Miss me?” he murmured against my lips.

  “Every second of every day,” I answered.

  He crushed me against his chest with a groan, pushing my dress up my thighs with strong warm fingers. “Do you want to take a shower with me?” he asked.

  “No.” I shook my head adamantly. “I want you just like this.”

  He groaned again and then nipped at my ear. “Such a dirty girl.”

  He tried to lift me up, but I placed my hand in the center of his chest and pushed him back down. There was something about seeing him in this position, vulnerable to me, that I really liked. And I had every intention of exploring it.

  His eyes flared when I leaned down and flicked my tongue over his nipple, tasting the salt on his skin. He made a strangled noise in his throat that sounded very much like approval, so I did it again to the other side.

  “Put your hands behind your head,” I ordered.

  He arched a brow at me and gave me that look. The one that told me he was always in control and I had no idea who I was talking to.

  “Do it,” I said again.

  “Someone’s bossy today.” He flashed me an arrogant grin as he reluctantly put his hands behind his head and watched me curiously.

 

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